


Midnight Showdown in a Ghost Town

by gremlins-came-and-got-me (Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark)



Series: Ally and Seb [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison is badass, Canon Divergent, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek is the Alpha, Episode: s01e12 Code Breaker, Fire, Forced Erection, Forced Nudity, Gen, MCD is Kate Argent, MCD is Peter Hale, Pack Dynamics, Rape/Non-con Elements, past Derek Hale/Kate Argent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27609512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark/pseuds/gremlins-came-and-got-me
Summary: Allison dials Stiles’ number again. Again it goes to voicemail.
Series: Ally and Seb [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017094
Comments: 12
Kudos: 24





	Midnight Showdown in a Ghost Town

Allison dials Stiles’ number again. Again it goes to voicemail.

“Damn it,” she swears.

She’d led Sheriff Stilinski to the room where Derek was being tortured by her aunt, only for them not to be there. Sheriff Stilinski had shooed her away while he called in reinforcements and dogs.

Allison had gone home, suited up, and returned. She’d sneaked past the deputy guarding the culvert, half-expecting to be stopped by more deputies or the Sheriff. Instead, she is standing in the middle of the room, studying the ground, the walls, the freaking electric fence Derek had been chained to, looking for clues as to where they could have gone. Then she remembered that Derek has said Stiles knew how to find him, so she started calling him.

She checks her arrows again. She’s got one of the exploding heads, another that’s a flashbang, and six regular arrows. She has a pistol she lifted from her aunt’s car tucked into a holster strapped on her leg.

She dials Stiles’ number again.

She’s tried Scott a couple times, but he hasn’t answered either. His phone is either on silent or vibrate. Or he’s misplaced it. He’s kind of hopeless when it comes to things.

Stiles finally picks up just before his voicemail does.

“Hey, Allison,” he sounds out of breath and kind of in pain, “now’s not really a good time.”

“Do you know where Derek Hale is?” she demands.

“Yes. And no. Why?”

“I need to find him. He’s with my aunt. I think she’s going to kill him.”

“Listen, Derek’s uncle is looking for him. He’ll get him out of there.”

“My aunt’s a hunter.”

“I know.”

Allison shakes her head. She doesn’t have time for this. “Stiles, where are you? I’ll pick you up and we can go to where they are.”

“I’m heading to the hospital. Lydia Martin was attacked. By Derek’s uncle. He’s a werewolf.”

A werewolf? Must be what Derek is. Nice to have confirmation, but she still thinks the one who is more human between her aunt and Derek is Derek.

“Wait, isn’t Derek’s uncle supposed to be comatose?”

She thinks she heard somewhere that Peter Hale had been badly burned in the fire and was living in the long-term care facility at Beacon Memorial. And then the rest of Stiles’ words register.

“Wait, Lydia Martin’s been attacked?!”

“Yeah, by Peter, who killed Laura to get the Hale power. He’s on his way to this root cellar thing in the middle of the preserve. He says it’s where Derek is.”

“So we can’t drive there?”

“Allison! What about Lydia?”

Allison shoots a look skyward, hoping that if Lydia ever finds out, she forgives her. “She’s at the hospital. We need to stop my aunt and Derek’s uncle. Please help me.”

“Look, Peter mangled my keys. I’m, like, downtown. I’ve got about seven blocks to go before I’m at the hospital. How far away are you?”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Because Allison is in the torture room, she doesn’t actually have time to backtrack through the tunnel and over the ground, especially because there’s a thin cloud cover blocking a lot of the moon’s light, making the already dark forest that much harder to navigate.

She’s under the Hale house, right? That means that there should be access into the first floor. All she has to do is find it.

If she were a subterranean basement, where would she have stairs?

She begins tapping the walls, walking quickly around the room. When she passes the table with the amplifier, she grabs Derek’s shirt and jacket, left behind in Kate’s haste to move him before Allison returned with reinforcements.

Something falls to the floor when she lifts the garments. It’s a phone.

She picks it up. Over seventy missed calls and, like, a billion texts. She flicks through them, recognizing her own number a few times. Huh. She’s not in here as anything. Who could it belong to? Not her aunt. She isn’t sure Derek even has a phone and certainly she doesn’t have the number—not for lack of want. It’s just never been a good time to ask him for it. And then she realizes; it’s Scott’s phone. The calls line up with when she was trying to reach him.

So this is why Derek said Stiles could find him. She calls Stiles back and he answers, sounding a little pissed.

“Did you trace Scott’s phone?” she asks.

“Yes,” Stiles says, “but it showed that he was under the Hale house. Only, the CB radio said the deputies already looked there. So I had D—figured out how to search for your aunt’s phone since Peter said she’s the last one.”

“The last one what?” Allison asks even though she’s pretty sure Peter meant that she’s the last one responsible for the deaths of his family.

Stiles doesn’t respond.

“Look, is my aunt’s phone the reason Peter’s going out to that root cellar?”

“No,” Stiles admits. “Scott howled earlier. Did you hear it? I didn’t. Peter did. He confirmed that that’s where Derek answered from, and that’s why he’s going out there. Your aunt’s phone is at your house.”

“How soon can you get a vehicle?”

“What?” Stiles is breathing hard, and Allison can hear his feet slapping the pavement. The formal was last night. She was supposed to go but she’s been so busy with Kate that she hadn’t even bothered. Stiles, she knew, had gone with Lydia. A way to get back at Jackson for dumping her.

She winces in sympathy. Dress shoes are not the most comfortable, even for men.

She feels a little guilty that she wasn’t there to stop Lydia from being attacked. If that’s where she was attacked. She realizes that she doesn’t know anything about how last night went.

“Hey, do you remember the instant fire thing Lydia did at the school?” she asks Stiles.

“The self-igniting Molotov Cocktail? Yeah.”

“Can you make it?”

“Yes. Can’t you?”

“I’m going into the preserve. I need to find my aunt and Derek before Peter finds them. Derek isn’t accepting Peter as his alpha, and I know Peter is going to kill my aunt. I don’t want him to kill Derek too.”

“Do you have some kind of GPS on you? Because while I have a great sense of direction, I don’t think I’ll be help to anyone stumbling around in the dark with no clue where I’m headed.”

“Why don’t you trace my number? I can give you my user name and password.”

“I’m surprised your parents let you have your own account.”

“They have the info too. They’re overprotective, not stupid.”

“Hey,” Stiles protests, and it occurs to Allison that maybe, even though he’s the Sheriff, Stiles’ dad doesn’t have his user name and password. Maybe he doesn’t know what Stiles gets up to in his spare time.

“Okay, fine. They’re just really overprotective.”

“Yo, Jackson,” Stiles shouts suddenly. “Hey. Dude. You got your car? You’re driving me. You owe me.” To Allison, he says, “I got a ride. Text me your info and I’ll track you out there. We’ll be about thirty minutes behind you.”

“Great. Thanks, Stiles.”

Allison hangs up, sends her user name and password, and secures her phone in a waterproof bag tied under her shirt.

Then, she runs through the tunnel until she can climb out from the culvert. She doesn’t know where this root cellar is, but she’d guess it’s deeper in the preserve. And that her car will be pretty useless in getting her there.

A light wind picks up and sweeps the clouds away, so she has better vision, and she’s rewarded after about twenty minutes when she stumbles into a clearing, at the center of which is a large tree stump.

It’s so large that she could park her car on it. Instead, she climbs onto it, straining her ears and listening to the forest whispering around her.

There’s a bit of light peeking out from one of the roots, and she kneels down to inspect it.

It’s coming from a tiny gap between the root and the ground. She climbs off and presses her face to it. There’s some steps and a large plank table.

On the table is Derek. He’s been stripped down to nothing, his shoes and pants tossed in the corner, Kate flicking a blade close to his genitals while she peels off his sliced boxers.

The gap isn’t big enough for Allison to fire an arrow through, so she pulls back and circles the stump. She finds the doors to the cellar and eases one open. She expects it to creak from disuse, but apparently the hunters take good care of their torture chambers.

Kate doesn’t notice Allison creeping down the stairs, and Derek doesn’t react except for a tiny flinch when her foot hits one of the steps just right that she can feel the thump of it.

There isn’t enough sound for a human to hear, so she guesses werewolves have great hearing.

She wonders where Peter is. If he knew where they are, shouldn’t he have arrived first?

“You grew up so well,” Kate says, and Allison can hear the lust in her voice. “Do you remember all the crazy, hot sex we used to have? I miss it sometimes.” Kate sighs. “There’s nothing quite like training your very own sex servant.”

Despite being naked and having a knife very close to some very delicate areas, Derek rolls his eyes.

“Are you just going to keep talking or can you actually get on with the torture?”

“Oh, you mean like this?” Kate stabs the knife into Derek’s belly, drawing it up, splitting skin and flesh, blood pouring from the wound.

Derek hisses in pain but doesn’t otherwise react.

“Or maybe this?” Kate leans over and her mouth goes down. Derek bucks, shaking his head side to side. When Kate pulls back, Derek’s dick is wet and getting hard.

A biological response.

Allison notches an arrow.

“That’s enough,” she says.

Kate spins around, knife held out. “Oh,” she says, laughing with just her mouth, “it’s you. Come on. I know you used to want him. Wanna try him out? He’s still a lot of fun.”

Derek hasn’t moved and his stomach hasn’t healed either.

“What did you do to him?”

Kate laughs, for real this time. “There’s this flower—it’s toxic to humans too, in too high of doses—but it makes them so pliant.”

She grabs Derek’s dick with her hand, begins stroking it, using some blood from his eviscerated stomach to ease the glide.

Allison’s had two boyfriends that she did that with, minus the blood and cutting, and if this year had been anything normal, she’d have had a third one. The thing is, she was a consenting partner. So were they. Derek just stares at the ceiling, looking like he wants it to end and possibly with his death.

Allison draws back the arrow, aiming at Kate’s chest. “Stop it.”

“You’re not going to shoot me,” Kate says. “You wouldn’t stoop that low.”

“Not like you?” Allison asks. “Like trapping a family in their own basement and burning them alive?”

“Don’t you get it? They had to die. I was just following orders.” Kate lets go of Derek, raises her knife. At first, Allison is afraid that she’s going to charge her, try and stab her, but instead, she turns to Derek.

“No!” Allison screams, letting her arrow fly.

Before her arrow strikes, a blur leaps over her, slams into Kate, and rebounds up the stairs.

The arrow is gone. Did it hit that blur? Is it going to come back? Did it kill Kate? Allison looks at her aunt, holding her breath.

Kate doesn’t move. Her back is shredded, cloth mixed in with flesh. It looks like someone tried to tear her apart.

Allison doesn’t waste any more time. She leaps at the table, hands scrambling over Derek until she finds the wound on his back, packed with tiny blue flowers.

“Monkshood,” Derek says as she tears them out. “Wolfsbane. I’ll heal now. Thanks.”

Above ground, a vehicle roars into the clearing. Cars doors slam.

“Allison!” Stiles shouts.

“Down here,” Allison calls. She grabs Derek’s pants and hands them to him. He was right about healing. The wound on his belly is already closing up. She tugs his shirt over his head, and he obediently sticks his arms through the holes.

“Thanks,” he murmurs. Then he hops down, pulling on his jeans. Allison gives him as much privacy as she can, hunting for his socks, which she can’t find, before handing him his shoes.

Stiles and Jackson come thundering down the steps. “Whoa, what happened here?” Stiles asks, pulling up short, Jackson at his back. “Dude, you okay?”

“I will be,” Derek responds. He kneels down next to Kate, cocking his head to listen. “She’s still alive.”

“An oversight, to be sure,” someone says behind them.

Allison recognizes the voice. It’s the strange man from the mall who complimented her on her skin. When his eyes glow red, she realizes that he’s Derek’s uncle Peter.

He doesn’t look burned at all.

“Move, Derek. Let me finish what you started.”

Derek backs away, his face pinched tight, like he’s trying not to show emotion. It just makes him look angry. Allison grabs his hand.

“She needs to die,” she says. “She won’t stop otherwise.”

Peter reaches down and detaches Kate’s head with a single swipe of his claws. “There’s that. Now, who’s next?” Peter smiles at them, something cold and wrong in his eyes. Derek shoves in front of her, pushing her back toward Stiles and Jackson.

“They had nothing to do with it, Peter.”

“No,” Peter agrees easily. “But you did.” He steps forward and Derek hunches down. He looks ready for death.

Allison nocks another arrow, the grenade tip this time. She doesn’t know why she’s waiting. Peter is going to kill Derek and then he’ll come after her and the two boys behind her. She should shoot him now before he hurts her friends.

Surprisingly, Peter doesn’t attack Derek. Instead, he curls over him, arms around his shaking body, rocking them together.

“Shh,” Peter says, softly. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

Allison realizes that Derek is crying. She steps closer, lowering her bow, releasing the arrow and putting it back in the quiver on her back. Peter flashes red eyes at her, probably to tell her to stop, but she doesn’t. She slips under Derek’s arm, wraps her arms around him and squeezes.

“It’s going to be okay,” she says. “She can’t hurt you anymore. You’ll never have to feel her touch ever again.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Peter says. “If I ever was, it was because I was in so much pain. I’m not in pain now.”

“You killed Laura though. Laura who was innocent.”

“And I am sorry for that. I truly wasn’t in control. My nurse lured her when she realized that I wasn’t ever going to fully heal. I’ve dispatched her.”

“Killed, you mean,” Derek says. He grabs Allison’s hand, wriggles out from Peter’s arms, and stands up. “I will never be part of your pack, Peter. You might as well kill me too.” He gives Allison a push toward the steps. She stumbles a little and Stiles pulls her up with him. He has the flask of self-igniting fire in hand. Jackson has one too.

“I’m not going to kill you,” Peter says. “But you will be part of my pack. They, however, won’t be.” His eyes go red, face elongating into a terrifying creature. He snarls in Derek’s face, spit spraying as he begins roaring. He brings up one clawed hand and swipes it down Derek’s face. Derek stumbles back, a hand pressed to the wounds, blood dripping down his arm. Peter pushes him aside even though Derek claws him back, and starts toward the three of them on the steps.

Stiles snarls, like he’s turning into a werewolf too, and chucks his flask at Peter. It smashes dead center, fire spreading quickly.

He stops in his tracks and starts beating at the flames. Derek backs away from him slowly, a look of horror on his mostly-unhealed face. The flame spreads, and Peter drops to all fours, skin and hair burning even as he shifts into a monster. He roars and leaps at them.

Jackson yells something unintelligible and throws his own flask. Lacrosse star that he is, it smashes into Peter’s face, and he inhales some of the accelerant.

Almost immediately, Peter falls to the dirt floor and begins writhing. There’s a wounded wail rising from his chest, rattling in his throat, and fizzling out.

He’s going to die from this, Allison is positive. They’ve killed him.

In an act of mercy, Derek reaches down, hooks his claws into Peter’s throat, and tears his trachea out.

Then, he stands up, wipes his bloody claws on his pants, and faces them, eyes burning red. His face finally heals too, the only evidence, the blood drying on his shirt.

“I’m the alpha now,” he says, his voice low, affected. “I don’t want a pack. I don’t need a pack. Thank you for your help in stopping my uncle. Now go. Get away.”

When none of them move, he roars.

Still, they all just stand there, staring at him.

Derek’s shoulders droop. “What do you want?”

“A second chance at first line,” Stiles says. “Dummy, we want you. You’re my friend. Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?”

Jackson shoulders past them. “I want the bite. Peter gave it to Scott. I want you to give it to me.”

“No.”

“Good for you, telling Mr. Perfect to fuck himself,” Stiles crows.

“No to you too,” Derek says. “No to all of you. Just leave me alone. Let me grieve.”

Allison walks up to him, throws her arms around his neck, and hugs him tightly. “Thank you for being you, Derek,” she says, knowing that no one has said that to him in a long time, if ever. “Thank you for being someone I looked up to when I was eleven. Thank you for putting Peter out of his misery. Thank you for everything.”

Derek looks down at Peter’s smoldering body, then at the body of Kate. “They’re going to be hunting me,” he says. “It’s not safe to know me.”

Allison hefts her bow. “I won’t let them take you.” She means she won’t let her parents and their associates hunt him down and exterminate him like Kate did to his family. “I’m sorry for everything you went through. You did not deserve the pain.” She glances at Peter. In his own way, he didn’t deserve his pain either, but where Derek buried his emotions, put his head down, and survived, Peter lashed out. He had to know it was a matter of time before someone stopped him.

Derek is the alpha now. Logistically, that should mean he is stronger than everyone in this room, but right now, trembling under the weight of her hug, he’s the weakest. And she makes a vow right then and there. She will always protect those that cannot protect themselves.

Starting with Derek.

She will be ready when they come for him, but they won’t be ready for her.

Looking back at Stiles and Jackson, she sees the same determination on their faces. She’s not the only one who saw the good in Derek, even if Jackson probably still really wants to be a werewolf.

When Derek’s ready for a pack, they’ll be here. She squeezes him even tighter. She wants him to know that she’s not letting him go. Not this time.

They’ll be Ally and Seb again, except now they’re Allison and Derek.

Derek finally hugs her back. “Thank you,” he whispers into her hair. “For everything.”

“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Eventually, I will rewatch _Night School_ to see if Lydia called her Molotov Cocktail something technical. Right now, I have neither the energy nor the equipment to do so.
> 
> Want me to write a particular story for you? Now's the time! Come prompt me at [my Tumblr](https://1989dreamer.tumblr.com)!


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